Ghosts at Gettysburg

This is the next in the “Sunday Story” series.  There’s no political or moral “lesson” here, just stories about one of my favorite places – Gettysburg.

Playing Army

When I was a kid, we played “Army” a lot.  Usually, it was World War II “Army”.  Those were the stories we heard from our parents, all World War II veterans.  We set up ambushes on the sides of the road, waiting for “enemy” cars to come up the street.  One time, a driver stopped and lectured us. He wasn’t concerned about shooting him with our toy rifles, but about the strategic errors in our ambush technique.  He said we were “shooting” into each other, and he gave us a lesson on how to effectively ambush someone on the road.  I suspect he was speaking from real-life experience.

But the best war game was creeping up on the house on the corner of our street.  The old man who lived there didn’t like kids, and would come out with a real shotgun to “drive” us away.  It was, what we’d call today, a “live-fire” exercise, with actual enemy fire overhead.  Looking back I suspect it was rock salt, and probably carefully fired far over our short heads and butts. But it provided realism to our “war games”.  His swearing added even more spice and supplemented our vocabularies as well!

Civil War

Sometimes we’d play Civil War.  I was always the kid with the Confederate cap on.  Somehow, back in the early 1960’s, the Confederate side seemed more “romantic”, and living in Cincinnati just across the river from Kentucky, Confederate apparel was more available.  While that didn’t confuse me back then, later it dawned on me.  Kentucky remained in the Union, and while they had troops fighting for both sides of the War, Kentucky itself was “Blue”.  

As I grew older, we found out about the Underground Railroad history of Cincinnati.  A house just a few blocks away was a station on the Railroad, built high on a hill overlooking the Mill Creek Valley.  The “sign” of protection was the Union shield carved in wood on the portico over the front door.  We explored the woods around the home, looking for secret tunnels leading into the basement (we didn’t find them).  

So the Civil War was always a part of my growing up.  But when I became a history teacher, my “strong-points” were Constitutional history and our modern era.  I could go on about “Mutual Assured Destruction” and the importance of NATO in balancing the Soviet threat.  The Civil War didn’t have fascination for me, until I started teaching it to eighth graders.  

Brothers

For several years I showed my classes The Blue and the Gray, a made for TV mini-series covering much of the Civil War. After seven periods a day, year in and out, I can still remember many of the scenes. One was outside the battlements at Vicksburg, where the Union troops were entrenched surrounding the Confederates. During a cease-fire, a Union soldier climbed up and met with a Confederate in the “No Man’s Land” in between. When asked, a Union sergeant gave a one-word explanation: “brothers”.

That was my discovery of the real pathos of the American Civil War:  the tragedy of a people once united driven to fight each other.  It was not only brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor.  Even the strangers had a common history, a common foundation.  That drove me to study the war more closely, and like many history teachers, I became fascinated.

Then I read Killer Angels by Michael Sharra – and I was hooked.

Road Trip

My first expedition to Gettysburg was a summer “road trip”.  I tried to drive avoiding the interstate highways, taking the “National Road”, US 40 through the small towns of Pennsylvania.  US 40 eventually merges onto I-68 in West Virginia, and I drove that into Maryland.  Then I followed the “real” back roads, not highways but county roads, from Hagerstown northeast towards Gettysburg.  I took the time to stop and read the Historic Markers, and found myself on the path of Lee’s Army as it made its way through the Pennsylvania countryside to its fate at the crossroads.

It was the fitting way to enter Gettysburg.  Why did this idyllic college town below South Mountain in Pennsylvania become the site of the worst battle in American history?  You’ll hear about a shoe factory, or just “dumb luck” of two huge forces stumbling around in the countryside.  But Gettysburg is central – six roads converge on the small town.  Any army travelling through Southeastern Pennsylvania would end up there.  From Hagerstown to Carlisle, Baltimore to Chambersburg, Frederick to Harrisburg; all roads led to Gettysburg.

Gettysburg Traditions

That first trip was spent “taking the tour”. I got a cassette tape and stopped at each point along the battlefield, listening to the story of the conflict.  It’s still the best way to introduce yourself to what happened there, though it’s an “App” now.  I established two traditions on that first trip, repeated each time I visit (except when I took an entire track team).  The first was to lift a pint of ale in the Spring House of the Dobbins House Tavern.  The home was built in 1776. It served as a stop on the underground railroad before the war and as a field hospital during the battle.  You can feel the history in the beams of the building and the unevenness of the flooring, as if veterans of the battle were joining in your toast.  They are still there.

The second tradition is on the last evening on the battlefield, as the sun sets over Seminary Ridge across the broad field of Pickett’s Charge.  I go to the Confederate attack objective, the “Copse of Trees”  in the middle of the Union line on Cemetery Ridge, and watch the sun set over the sad statue of Robert E. Lee, the Confederate commander, a mile away on Seminary Ridge.  As the sun goes down, I think of the setting of his Confederate dreams, though it would be almost two more years of war and death before the end at Appomattox.  

Wool in the Hot Sun

That trip was in hot July.  I waited until the “right time”, mid-afternoon to walk Pickett’s Charge myself, across the mile of open field from Lee’s statue to just below the Copse.  It was hot, and I thought of the wool uniforms that the soldiers on both sides were wearing, and the artillery shells arching overhead.  I climbed over the spilt-rail fencing still on both sides of the Emmitsburg Road, realizing the target that made for rifle fire, then up the gentle incline into the mouths of cannon firing canister shot (think of a shotgun shell the size of a coffee can filled with metal balls).  Whatever you may think of the “Cause” of the Confederacy, there can be no question of the courage of those soldiers who marched up that Ridge, nor that of the men in blue who defended it.

Then I walked back, the mile to where Lee rode out to console and consolidate his decimated forces.  “General Pickett”, Lee said, “Prepare your division for defense.” Pickett replied, “General Lee — I have no division now.”

Alone on Little Round Top

I spent several years returning to Gettysburg, sometimes with family or friends, often on my own. I became a Gettysburg “geek”, no longer “taking the tour” but arriving at the field looking for information about a particular aspect of the battle. What gained my specific fascination was on the second day of the three-day action. Pickett’s dramatic charge on the third day was desperate and unlikely to succeed, but the battles on the second day were very near decisions.

One evening I was alone just beneath Little Round Top, the critical southern segment of the Union line that barely held against relentless Confederate attack.  The last regiment in line, the 20th Maine under Colonel Joshua Chamberlain was “in the air”.  There were no Union forces to their left, if the Confederates could get past them, they could ravage the interior of the Union forces.  It is heavily wooded; the Confederates were forced to charge up a steep hill against the fortified Union line.  But after six  Rebel charges the 20th was almost out of ammunition. Chamberlain, well aware of the strategic importance of his position, ordered his men to fix bayonets and charge downhill into the Confederate ranks.  The attack so surprised them, that the Texans were pushed off of Little Round Top, up the hill of Big Round Top, and down the other side.

As I stood almost alone at the stone marker noting the 20th’s position, a fully uniformed Union Sharpshooter emerged from the woods behind me.  He began talking of the action, of the position he took on the field.  He answered my questions about how the land had changed since the battle, what is now scrub woods was once a road to the mill.  It was eerie:  reenactors are often on the battlefield, but this one seemed almost – real – almost a ghost.  The woods were growing dark, and my soldier said he had to return to his fire.  Then he was gone, and I was alone on Little Round Top.

The End of the Line

Another trip I went with a former student/athlete and friend, Randy. I decided to focus on the north end of the line. The Union was poised in a “fishhook” position, with Culp’s Hill on one end, and Little Round Top at the other. It was three miles long, with the Confederate forces paralleling it with a five-mile line. If the Rebels couldn’t break around the Union forces at Little Round Top to the South, why couldn’t they skirt around Culp’s Hill to the North and split the “fishhook” in two?

There seemed to be nothing to stop a Confederate advance around Culp’s Hill, where the fighting was even uglier than Little Round Top.  So we crossed Rock Creek and began searching the woods for evidence – regimental markers or monuments.  We found nothing but woods and signs saying we were no longer in the Battlefield Park – trespassing on private land.  After wandering for a while, we returned to the Visitors Center and went to the Guide booth to ask them the question.

There is a “vetting” system at Gettysburg.  Ask a basic question, and you’re directed to a battle overview in the Visitor’s Center.  Ask a more specific question, and you may well get hooked up with a Battlefield Guide – perhaps the best way to see Gettysburg if you have the time and money.  They are true experts, full of facts, figures, and stories.  Many are former military themselves, retired, like General Eisenhower, to the ghosts of America’s most famous battle.

But this time the Guide there gave us very specific instructions.  Get in the car, and drive down the Pike until we crossed the Creek.  Then, turn left into the driveway of the first farmhouse, and knock on the door and explain our question to whoever appears.  If we were lucky, maybe we would get an answer.

Hidden Monuments

Randy and I followed directions, and knocked on the farmhouse door.  An older woman answered, and I explained who we were and that the Guide said someone here might answer my question.  She proceeded to give me a quiz on the battle, asking multiple questions about the events of July 1863.  I must have satisfied her, as she told me to wait a moment, and went and got her husband.

The older man came out, and after a little discussion, asked if Randy and I would like to take a walk.  He owned all the land on the east side of Rock Creek, not in the Battlefield Park. It had been in his family since before the Civil War.  So he took us to the “end of the line”, where Union forces were positioned to stop just the maneuver that I wondered about.  Out of the woods appeared stone monuments, not on any tourist map.  They were erected with most of the rest in the 1890’s by the surviving veterans, but since it was on private land, aren’t part of the “regular” Gettysburg experience.

We walked miles. He showed us the old road to the mill (see Little Round Top) and where the mill stood. And he explained: Confederates tried to “flank” around Culp’s Hill, but there weren’t enough of them, and too many Union forces, to get around that end. It wasn’t a “pitched” battle like the more well-known actions, but left out here, in the woods, unseen, was the strategic Union “end of the line”.

Track at Gettysburg

As a track coach, I loved to take my team on trips.  It gave them a chance to “bond” together, become a more dedicated team, and have fun.  Track became more than just workouts and competitions, it became experiences as well.  For years I looked for a way to take a team to Gettysburg.  And we finally found a meet, not at Gettysburg, but close enough at Cumberland Valley High School near Harrisburg.  So we set it up – a “Tour Bus”, accommodations at the Eisenhower Conference Center just south of the battlefield, dinner at General Pickett’s Buffet, and a guided tour of the Battlefield.

The team was like most kids at Gettysburg.  Some were fascinated, others were mildly interested, and a few were flat bored.  But there is a “secret” of kids at Gettysburg – “the Devil’s Den”.  It’s a series of rock outcroppings where actual battle was fought.  But it’s also a natural playground – and when the “kids” are bored it’s a perfect place to let them go “play”.  Of course, they’ll be “breaking the rules”, jumping from rock to rock, but they’ll have fun.  And then you can sneak in the “sniper photograph” – a soldier aiming his rifle through the rocks at Little Round Top, and some stories of battle in the rocks.  Most are “hooked” before you get back on the bus.

We had fun, and were runners-up in the meet the next day.  As usual when we go on tour, we probably lost some points by running around so much the day before – but it was worth it.

My second experience with track at Gettysburg was coaching at a Pole Vault Camp at Gettysburg College.  It was unnerving:  teaching pole vault where I could tell the athletes exactly what happened during the battle, right there on the runway they were using.  We did the Gettysburg “ghost tour”, not so great, but after four days of full-time pole vault, the camp director Rob decided we should give the kids a little taste of the battle.  So we loaded everyone up, and went over to Little Round Top, to see the 20th Maine and the Devil’s Den.  

And when camp was over and the kids gone:  it was a quick trip to the Spring House, and sunset over Seminary Ridge.  Then the long drive home.

Ghosts in the Mist

On another trip Richie and I went together. He coached track with me for several years, and after he heard that Randy went with me to Gettysburg, he was determined that we should go. We set up an ambitious plan, two days at Gettysburg, a day in Washington, and a day at Antietam (another battlefield nearby). But to make it work, we had to leave Pataskala in the evening, and drive all night to get to the Battlefield.

We arrived about 5:30 am, and parked in the dark on Cemetery Ridge. It’s kind of hard to get the “lay of the land” in the dark, but we walked out onto the ridge anyway. The mists came up from the ground as the sky started to lighten, and soon we were walking in a fog, alone among the monuments. The marble soldiers emerged from the mists, silently keeping guard on the “hallowed ground” where they struggled. We could feel the spirits of those that sacrificed, and those who survived to return and erect monuments to their comrades.

Battlefields are often spiritual places.  At Gettysburg, the ghosts are standing guard.

The Sunday Story Series

Riding the Dog  – 1/24/21

Hiking with Jack – 1/31/21

A Track Story – 2/7/21

Ritual – 2/14/21

Voyageur – 2/19/21

A Dog Story – 2/25/21

A Watkins Legend – 3/7/21

Ghosts at Gettysburg – 3/14/21

Author: Marty Dahlman

I'm Marty Dahlman. After forty years of teaching and coaching track and cross country, I've finally retired!!! I've also spent a lot of time in politics, working campaigns from local school elections to Presidential campaigns.